


Hidden Scars

by irishgirl321



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cheating, Especially Queenie, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Making this somewhat of a self-insert wahey, Percival Graves Lives, Psychological Trauma, Reader Deals with Stuff, Reader drinks more than necessary to deal with her problems, Tina and Queenie are good bros, she's a great bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishgirl321/pseuds/irishgirl321
Summary: After being imprisoned by Grindelwald and his fanatics for eights months, Percival Graves is finally rescued by the one person who's memory he clung to most during his torture and captivity. He soon learns that time, along with his own life, continued on without him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HERE I AM AGAIN POSTING MORE NEW FICS EVEN THO I HAVE PLENTY OF OTHERS TO FINISH. I CAN'T STOP MYSELF. Currently working on a Kingsman fic too, Eggsy Unwin x Reader. Because my mind jumps around like the Energizer bunny on a pogo stick. Whatevvvvvvvvvveeeeeerrrrrrr.
> 
> This shouldn't have too many chapters, and is just a little thing my mind cooked up after re-watching Fantastics Beasts and the release of the new trailer. Colin Farrell was too good looking in the movie for me to ignore, and while we don't see Percival Graves himself, I have this image of him in my head as a fairly kind, kind of gruff man. Though in this he gets pretty grumpy for understandable reasons.
> 
> Trigger warnings would be: References to torture, violence, death, and cheating.

“The Fidelius charm on the hideout has been broken,” you snapped, eyeing the other aurors around you. Inside your chest your heart was pounding, but you had a professional mask dropped over your features. “Their secret keeper revealed the information under torture.” Everyone stared silently, heads slightly bowed as they listened intently. “We’re going to apparate inside the house, so be ready for a fight. Use of any force you deem necessary is authorised, but remember the primary goal. Secure Director Graves above all else.”

You watched them intently, seeing nods and hearing murmurs of agreement. Some looked nervous, shifting from foot to foot. Apparating inside the hide-out of Grindelwald’s fanatics was not a pleasing idea to anyone, but nothing else could be done. Anything else may tip them off.

You drew your wand from your pocket, drawing strength from the reassuring touch of the familiar wood. Guilt, anger and pain thudded through your veins, thick and heavy. But you couldn’t dwell on it. Swallowing heavily, you pushed it to the back of your mind.

“Apparate on three,” you instructed firmly.

Around you, witches and wizards shifted. Fabric shuffled as they pulled their wands free, moving into formation behind you. You stood at the front of the triangular pattern, where Percival would have been had he been there.

“Two.”

_Please be alive, please._

“One.”

A loud pop sounded in your ears, like a balloon bursting. The world twisted for a few nauseating seconds, and then you were standing in a dark, musty living room. In a split second you took in eight figures sitting in armchairs around an unlit fireplace. Hearing your arrival, they instantly sprung to their feet. Shouts rent the air as they scrambled to pull their wands free. Around you, the other aurors appeared with various cracks and bangs.

“Stupefy!” You yelled, launching a burst of red at the nearest man.

The force threw him back, slamming in into the wall. He fell, hitting the ground heavily and didn’t move again. You’d already turned away, throwing yourself out of the way as a killing curse came screaming towards you. Your body collided with the ground heavily and you yelled in pain. Twisting, you saw the other man preparing to fire another spell.

“Accio!” You screamed, pointing at the chair.

Ripping your arm towards you, you managed to throw the object in-front of the next curse coming your way. It exploded on contact, raining splinters. You threw your hands up, halting them in the air and then sending them flying towards your adversaries. Some leapt out of the way, but three of them became impaled by the wooden projectiles, held against the wall by the force of the impalement. You struggled to your feet, eyes flickering around as the rest of the aurors finished off the remainder of Grindelwald’s followers. Once they were all down, only two left alive being restrained in the corner, did you relax slightly. Dusting down your long coat, you turned towards the others.

“Spread out. Search the house. Be careful, there may be more of them.”

They nodded, faces serious as they trooped from the room. Only one stayed with you, the one you could count on most. Tina looked at you with wide eyes, though there was a hint of admiration in them.

“Good thinking with the splinters,” she said quietly. “He’d be very proud.”

You dipped your head, feeling a warm lump grow in your throat at her words. Managing a wry smile in her direction, you turned on your heel as you began to inspect the room. Waving your wand, you checked for any signs of incantations or a ward spell. There was nothing obvious, and you chewed your lip in frustration. You were a strong enough witch, your powers being well above average in strength, but if Grindelwald himself had sealed Percival away there was very little chance of you finding him.

You could hear Tina muttering to herself as she checked the other side of the room, wand running along the walls. You moved around in a counter-clockwise formation, checking each-other’s work for something they may have missed. _Nothing_. When both of you had canvassed the entire room and still not found anything you felt your heart begin to sink.

It was only made worse when the other aurors began to return to the room, dejected looks on their faces. You glared at them, refusing to believe it. Your calm demeanor beginning to crack under brewing panic, you snapped. “Check again.”

Rather than argue, they did as they were told. Once more they came back an hour later, all repeating the same thing. They had found nothing. No trace. He wasn’t there. You shook your head firmly, and pushed past them. You checked every room in the house yourself, from the attic all the way down to the basement. With every passing minute the pit of horror grew in your stomach. Sweat shone on your forehead, and your wand starting to tremble slightly in your hand.

You were in what would have been the master bedroom, trailing your wand over the wall as your desperate eyes searched for any hint of a spell. The creak of a floorboard had you jump in surprise, wand snapping to point at the door frame. Tina held up her hands, a look of shock on her face. You relaxed when you saw it was her, running a hand across your brow to wipe off some perspiration.

“Have either of the captives spoken?” You asked, only just realising how hoarse your voice was.

Biting her lip, she sadly shook her head. “We’ve received word. They’re calling us back to headquarters.”

_No._

“They can’t call us back!” You exclaimed, placing a hand against the wall to steady yourself. Your legs felt weak all of a sudden. “This place is our last lead.”

“I know,” she said, looking upset, “but they’ve sent the orders.”

For a minute, all you could do was breathe heavily. It felt like you weren’t getting enough oxygen, the air rasping in your throat. You glared at the floors, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to overflow. Tina waited for you to speak. In the end, you shook your head and straightened up.

“Go get your sister.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“Queenie. Get her. Now,” you repeated through gritted teeth. She just stared at you as if you had gone mad. “That’s an order, Goldstein.”

Not able to refuse a direct command from her superior, and obviously not ready to give up on Percival Graves either, Tina nodded hesitantly. You had to give it to her, for someone who seemed so timid she had some serious backbone. Her wand snapped out, and she disappeared with a loud crack. You simply waited, staring up at the ceiling and tapping your foot impatiently.

It didn’t take long. She was back in under a minute, her golden haired sister with her. You nodded at Queenie, knowing that you didn’t have to tell her what to do. She read it off your mind, seeming slightly surprised but then inclining her head. You smiled tightly, happy with her willingness to help. You didn’t have time for threats and persuasion. Any minute wasted was a minute that Percival could die.

Without a word, she wandered further in the room. She came to rest beside you, gaze turning inwards. She didn’t say anything for a couple of long moment, before her blue eyes came to rest on yours. “Do you mind sending the others away? Their thoughts are very loud.”

“Of course,” you replied, striding out of the room in an instant.

The rest of the aurors in the living room turned when you crossed the threshold. They seemed subdued, downcast. Everyone was feeling worried that the Director hadn’t been found yet. You gave them what you hoped was a reassuring smile, but catching sight of your murky reflection in the mirror over the fireplace behind them, you knew it was more of a pained grimace.

“You are all to head back to headquarters,” you told them softly. “Tina and I will meet you there soon.”

Some looked like they wanted to question you, but didn’t. You appreciated that. This team you had hand-picked yourself, fully trusting them and knowing they would have your back. Seven aurors, including Tina, all of various ages, races and gender. All firm of character, every single one you could rely on.

One by one they disappeared, until you stood alone in the living room. Closing your eyes, you listened to the footsteps of the Goldstein sisters on the floorboards above. They were talking quietly, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. With everyone gone, you could make out the soft, continued ticking of old pipes.

After taking a few moments to gather yourself, you headed back out into the hallway and padded upstairs. When you reached the landing, they were just coming down from the attic. The sorrowful expressions on their faces told you everything that you needed to know, and you felt the thin hope you clung to ebb away even further.

“We’ll try the ground floor and basement,” Queenie said softly, dainty hand coming to rest on your arm.

You nodded, not daring to speak incase your voice broke. Queenie walked in the middle, with Tina on her left and you on her right. No one said anything anymore. You dipped into the kitchen, the dining room, until you stood back in the cob-web covered living room once more.

In there, Queenie paused, listening intently. Your heart almost stopped beating. After a few seconds, she shook her head. A guilty expression crossed her face. “Must have been someone in the next house…” She said sorrowfully.

You tried to stop your eyes from filling with tears. The others pretended not to notice you wiping them away with the pads of your thumbs. You checked the rest of the ground floor, before descending to the filthy basement once more. Your nose wrinkled at the smell, and Tina gagged slightly. Queenie just pulled out a perfumed handkerchief and held it to her nose. You didn’t spent long down there, something you were both thankful and pained by.

Trekking back up the stairs, you faced the terrifying reality that there was nowhere else to check. Nowhere else to look. You’d exhausted all options.

Percival Graves was gone.

Unaware that you did so, you stopped in the hallway. Your eyes were fixed on the stained glass window on the front door, the colourful evening sun filtering in. Realising you weren’t moving, Tina and Queenie turned to you. You struggled with words, feeling like you were choking. Finally, you managed to say, “you two go on back. I just… I need a few minutes.”

The sisters exchanged a look, before turning back towards you.

“We’ll stay,” Tina said and Queenie nodded vigorously.

Their kindness had you threatening to burst into tears, so you just nodded and half-ran from them. You didn’t want them to see, anyone see, the level of your grief. Queenie probably knew, had known for a while, but from what you could tell she hadn’t told a soul. No rumour of yourself and Percival Graves had ever circulated the office. Stumbling back into the living room, the place where you’d last felt any real hope at finding him, your legs gave out and you sunk to the moth-eaten carpet.

Placing your face in your hands, you let out shuddering breaths, trying to keep in control. You couldn’t hear Tina and Queenie talking, only the ticking of those damn pipes over by the fireplace.

 

**__________________________**

 

_“Here’s your coffee, sir,” you smiled shyly, placing it on his desk._

_Percival Graves glanced up at you from the rim of his glasses. He was holding a report in his hand, which he had been reading when you came in. A strand of dark hair fell over his forehead, and you noticed his eyebrows were raised in mild disapproval. You shrank back nervously, wondering what boundary you had accidentally overstepped this time._

_“It was, um, they came around with the cart,” you tried to explain. You were nervously stammering your words and you both knew it. “I figured you looked a bit coffee…. I mean, you looked a bit_ busy _and you probably didn’t notice.”_ Deep breath. Deeeeeeep breath _. “And I know you like your morning cup.” You finished lamely, wanting the floor to swallow you up._

_For a long moment, Graves just stared at you while you nearly vibrated with anxiety. Before you could lose your nerve and run out of there, he moved. Swinging his legs off from where they had rested on the side of his desk and planting them back onto the ground, he sat upright. The desk chair squeaked under him as he moved. Leaning forward, he wrapped long tanned fingers around the cardboard cup and picked it up. You breathed a sigh of relief when he sipped it and didn’t flinch or anything._

_Hands wringing nervously in-front of you, you waited for a reply._

_“You should have knocked before you came in,” he told you after a few seconds._

_His intense brown eyes settled on yours, and you swallowed heavily. “I’m… I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t thinking.”_

_He didn’t respond for a few more seconds, taking a small drink again. “Be sure to shut the door behind you when you leave.”_

_“Yes sir,” you responded meekly, turning to go. Face burning with embarrassment, you crossed the room as quickly as you could. Hand closing on the doorknob, you went to pull it closed. The Director called out to you before you could, and you halted._

_“Yes sir?” Your palms felt sweaty._

_“You don’t have to keep bringing me things to get on my good side. However, coffee is always welcome.”_

_It was his version of a ‘thank you,’ and you felt a small smile grow on your cheeks. “Understood, sir.”_

_You went to close the door, when he spoke again. “And _____?”_

_“Yes, Director?”_

_“You’re doing well here. Keep up the good work.”_

 

**__________________________**

 

_Wait… Pipes at the fireplace?_

Lifting your head out of your hands, you stared before you in confusion. Why would there be pipes in the wall behind the fireplace? You didn’t know too much about housing and such, but something about that just didn’t seem right. Pushing yourself to your feet, you stumbled across the room. Crouching down before the fireplace, you brushed your hair behind your ears and listened, straining.

Up close, when really paying attention, it sounded different. Not so much like ticking, but more… solid? Almost intentional. And then you gasped, eyes opening wide.

That wasn’t ticking. That was faint, frantic tapping.

“Merlin’s beard,” you whispered, shooting to your feet. Turning around, you let out a roar. “ _Tina!_ ”

You heard frantic footfalls and the Goldstein sisters ran towards the living room. Staggering backwards, you yanked your wand from your pocket. Pointing it at the fireplace, you screamed. “Reducto!”

The wall shattered inwards, a cloud of brick and rubble filling the air. You cursed, suddenly realising that exploding a wall inwards may have not been the best idea. Shouting rang out behind you as Tina and Queenie entered the room, but you paid no heed. You raced towards the fireplace, dropping to your knees and scrambling into the hole you had made in the wall.

Dusty air clouded your lungs and you coughed, feeling sharp edges of brick cut into your palms and your knees as you crawled inside. The air was heavy, and you could barely see. Outside you heard Tina shout a spell, and the musty air was pulled away from you. Blinking tears out of red-rimmed eyes, you made out a slumped figure in the darkness before you.

“Percival!” You screamed, pushing yourself upright and staggering towards him.

Dropping to your knees, you grabbed his heads in your hands as gently as you could. He was covered in grime and blood, his head lolling listlessly against his chest. Raising his face to look at yours, you leaned forward to see if he was breathing. A small puff of air against your ears told you he was, and you felt tears of relief begin to stream down your face.

Gently, you tried to wipe some of the soot and dirt away from under his eyes. He shifted, groaning softly. His lashes fluttered and then deep brown eyes slowly struggled open. Eyes that you had thought you may never see again.

“______?” His voice was hoarse, ragged. It didn’t even sound like him.

“Hey, handsome,” you managed to reply over heavy sobs. “Sorry I didn’t knock.”

A laugh escaped his chapped lips, before his eyes closed and he sunk into unconsciousness again. You checked his pulse, finding it weak, but still there. Scuffling noises behind you had you twist, wand held at the ready. Tina jumped, looking panicked. That was the second time you’d done that today.

“Sorry,” you whispered, “forgot you were there.”

“Is it him?” She asked. Her eyes were fixed on his face. You could see a mix of worry, concern and joy there.

You nodded. “It is, or at least I think so.”

“We need to be sure,” she replied. “We can’t just bring him back without knowing.”

Your mouth dropped, aghast. “He’s unconscious! He’s half-dead!”

“It’s protocol,” she argued. “I don’t like it either, but it’s what we have to do.”

You stared at her, hardly able to believe what you were hearing. In the end, you could only shrug helplessly. Deep down, you knew she was right. Moving up beside you, she placed a hand on your shoulder.

“He’s practised occlumency, that’s why Queenie couldn’t get a read on him. You need to ask him a question. Something only he would know.”

You just stared at her, heart pounding in your chest. There was something you could ask, something that you knew had happened before Grindelwald had taken over. Something that would irrevocably mean it was him.

You were gentle as you shook him, trying to wake him up. After a few seconds, he did. His bleary eyes fixed on you once again, and you swallowed. Not allowing yourself to glance in Tina’s direction, you spoke quietly.

“The first time you kissed me, what did I say?”

Beside you, you heard Tina’s sharp intake of breath. Still, you kept all your attention on Percival’s face. For a second it contorted in confusion and your heart clenched in fear. After a few seconds, he chuckled ever so slightly.

“That old lady is staring at us.”

Relief washed through you, making you weak. You leaned forward, touching your forehead against Percival’s chest as you tried to get a handle on your emotions. You felt Tina clumsily patting you on the back, and you straightened up.

“It’s him,” you told her raggedly, but from your reaction she had already known. “We need to get him back. I… I don’t know if we can risk apparating with him.”

Tina nodded. “I’ll call. You just sit tight and keep him awake.”

Technically, it should have been you giving the orders. However, in this one instance you found that you did not mind one bit. Tina moved off, crawling back out of the hole in the fireplace. For a few moments it was just you and Percival.

“Stay with me, alright?” You told him, stroking his hair with one hand and holding his face steady in the others.

He smiled exhaustedly, one of his hands coming up to catch yours. You let him entwine your fingers, pushing back on the rush of guilt and apprehension inside you. This moment… You wouldn’t have given it up for anything in the world. But it complicated things, and you were afraid of the time you would have to sit down and tell him everything.

“I’m glad it was you,” Percival whispered. “I knew it would be you.”

Biting down hard on the inside of your cheek, you felt blood on your tongue. Despite the pain and inner turmoil, you smiled reassuringly at him. He gazed back, a dreamy look on his face. You realised he was probably concussed along with everything else.

Another hand landed on your shoulder, and you looked back to see Queenie’s sympathetic face. Of course she knew what was going on in your head. Feeling embarrassed, you shied away slightly from her touch. She removed her hand, obviously knowing she was making you uncomfortable.

“Oh honey,” she said softly. “If you ever need anyone to talk to…”

“I’ll be fine,” you snapped, before turning your attention back to the injured Percival Graves.

 

**__________________________**

 

He’d become accustomed to darkness and pain, which was why the lack of it was so disturbing. When he woke up in a hospital bed, he thought it was some sick joke. Either by Grindelwald, or by his own mind. Unable to move, he stared at the white ceiling, blinking heavily.

_Maybe he was dead?_

He could have been dead for a while. He didn’t think he would have known if he was.

Someone shifted beside him, and a shadow fell across his face. Percival suddenly realised that his hand was clutched in something warm, and he yanked it away in blind panic. Scrambling back across the covers, he saw a silhouette move towards him. The glaring sun behind them blocked out their features, and he found himself cowering away.

It took a few seconds for him to register the shouting. It was urgent, but the tone was gentle. And the voice… The voice was aching familiar. “Hey! It’s me, Percival. It’s me. You’re alright. You’re safe.”

You moved closer, hands held out placatingly in-front of you. He could now see it was indeed your face, awash with concern and pain. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his fingers gripping the bedsheets tightly. You stopped, not coming any closer. For a moment you simply gazed at each other. He saw your chest shudder as you inhaled raggedly.

“It’s me,” you repeated in a near whisper.

For a long second he didn’t say anything, trying to figure out if this was an illusion or if he had finally gone mad. You simply stayed still in-front of him, not daring to move. He could see tears glistening in your eyes. Searching his mind, he came across a hazy, dim memory of an explosion, and the one face he wanted to see above all others coming to rescue him.

“Can you… can you close the curtain?” He said, in a voice that didn’t sound like his own. It was weak, fearful. Not the usual commanding tone of the Director of Magical Law Enforcement.

“Of course,” you replied, and he could see you breathing a sigh of relief.

You turned, and he could see dust rain off you as you did. It was only then he noticed that you were covered in dirt, bits of rubble mixed into your hair. Glancing down at his own hands, he could see he was spotlessly clean. All the dirt and blood had been washed off. He hadn’t seen his skin like this in so long… It seemed almost unnatural.

The shriek of the curtain pole had him jump in surprise, and you spun. Seeing his reaction, you winced. “Sorry.”

For a moment you hesitated, before slowly moving back to the armchair that you had been sitting in. Instead of reaching for his hand, you kept yours placed in your lap this time. He could see white bandages on them, and a small pool of dark blood growing across the white strips. Seeing his gaze, you turned your palms face down against your legs, hiding them. Once more, his eyes flickered up to you. You gave him a tight smile that seemed off somehow.

“What happened?” He asked.

“I found you.”

“How?”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “We tracked a lead to some old abandoned house. Eight of Grindelwald’s followers were in there, but we took care of them. Kept two alive, but they didn’t give up where you were hidden. We checked all over.” He could see your eyes beginning to fill with tears once again, hear the slight shake in your voice. “We couldn’t find anything. They told us to go home, but I couldn’t just leave. I was… I was about to go when I heard it. Your tapping.” You ran a hand over your face, hiding your expression from him.

“I don’t remember tapping,” he answered uncertainly.

You gave him a sad smile, and then leaned forward. He put all his effort into not flinching as you carefully picked up his right hand, furling his index finger so he could look at the tip. Your skin was warm against his, and achingly familiar. Scars covered the top of it, raised and white against his skin.

“It was nearly destroyed,” you whispered, “all covered in blood. You must have been tapping for _weeks_ …”

Something inside of you seemed to break. You hunched over, holding his hand against your chest as huge, messy sobs wracked your body. He froze, not knowing what to do. Your entire body shook. Reaching out, he clumsily patted your back.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, it’s okay,” he found himself saying. “I’m back now. Everything will go back to how it used to be.”

It was meant to be a reassurance, but if anything it only made you more hysterical. Pushing yourself away from him, you curled up the armchair. Your hands clawed at the side of it, nails digging into the fabric as you cried harder than he had ever seen anyone cry before.

Across the room, a door opened and a healer rushed in. She looked confused when she spotted the source of the noise was not Percival himself, but was you instead. Snapping herself out of it, she rushed to your side.

“You’re having a panic attack, dear,” her voice was kind, “you need to calm down.”

You spluttered, eyes streaming and face red as you looked at her desperately. Percival watched, feeling disorientated and helpless as the healer rubbed your back comfortingly, helping you get a handle on yourself. It took around five minutes of gasping and choking before you had regained a relatively normal stage.

The healer drew away, and you blinked at Percival from red rimmed eyes. Twisting, you seized a tissue from the box on the stand by your chair, and mopped your face with it. Not knowing how to react, he waited. He felt useless. In the past, he would have leaned over and put an arm around your shoulder, maybe even helped you onto the bed and wrapped you in his arms. Now, it seemed like he couldn’t move, like he was stuck there.

Searching for something to say, he told the truth. “I thought about you the entire time I was in there.”

You stiffened, face twisting in agony. “Please, don’t.”

“I’m not lying,” he continued, feeling a bit stronger, a bit more like himself. “You kept me alive.”

“Stop,” you moaned, covering your face in your hands again.

“I didn’t tell you. We worked together for years and I didn’t tell you,” he ignored your pleas, how you clamped your hands to your ears. _You were back together now. Reunited. Everything could pick up where it left off._ “I lo-”

“He pretended to be you,” you spat out, with a wild look in your eyes.

He froze, all the air leaving his lungs. You couldn’t meet his gaze, just stared at the ground. Swallowing, he managed to get out one word. “What?”

“He pretended to be you,” you repeated miserably.

He had to close his eyes. He felt like he was going to get sick, or he was going to faint. “Did you…?”

“Merlin’s beard, no I did _not!”_ You exclaimed in disgust. You took a few moments, shaking your head vehemently. “No. Nothing like that. He… He… Ended things with me. When he was pretending to be you.”

Percival couldn’t move, could barely even think. “When was this?” His voice sounded normal calm. _Why did he sound calm?! On the inside, he was anything but._ He wanted to punch something, he wanted to scream. Grindelwald had stolen his life.

“Eight months ago,” you told him sadly, guilt and anger colouring your tone. “I noticed something was off, but I just put it down to… You know. That you didn’t like me anymore.”

 _Eight months._ Percival looked within himself and found he couldn’t be angry at you. He should be. He should be furious. Above everyone else, _you_ should have been able to recognise that it was not him. He had never been a very vocal man with regard to his affections, and you had only been on a few dates, but you still should have known that he would _never_ just-

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated. “I haven’t slept since I found out.”

He took a deep breath. You were so sad, hunched in on yourself, with your head hanging and silent tears spilling down your face. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and took your hand. You started, face snapping up to him in surprise.

“It’s okay,” he found himself whispering. “You didn’t know. But you found me.”

You smiled shyly, and for a second he was back in the office, seeing that grin for the first time when you were introduced as the department’s newest auror. However, it didn’t hold the same sadness back then. His hand rose, fingers gently stroking your face. Eyes slipping closed, you momentarily leaned into his touch. His thumb brushed your lips, and he shifted a bit closer in the bed, leaning in-

You shot back, causing him to start in surprise. Percival stared at you in shock, wondering why you had reacted like that. Your hand clapped to your mouth, and you looked like you were about to have another panic attack again.

“I have something else I need to tell you-” you started, but you were cut off by a loud voice from the door.

“Darling! Are you alright?”

Percival’s eyes snapped to the door, wondering why some man he didn’t know was calling him ‘darling.’ When he followed the man’s worried gaze, he found that it rested on you. For a moment his brow crinkled, he couldn’t understand what was happening. And then you rose off the armchair, panicked eyes shifting from him, to the man, and then back again. Suddenly, it started to make sense.

He felt his jaw set, his fists tightening on the bedsheets once more. You walked towards the man, a strained smile on your face. Percival watched in anger as the man reached up, a concerned frown on his brow as his deft fingers examined the small cuts on your face. Tutting to himself, he pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Percival heard him whisper.

You nodded, and the man turned to look at him curiously. Percival shifted, straightening up as much as he could while sitting down. He would have preferred to stand, but he felt a bit shaky and didn’t want to run the risk of embarrassing himself. At that moment he realised he was in a goddamn hospital gown, and the expression on his face became thunderous. He looked utterly weak and ridiculous.

The man didn’t seem to mind, walking around to offer him a friendly smile and a calloused hand. “Director Graves, I’m sure you don’t remember me. I’m Alistair Night, from the Department of Unidentifiable Magical Objects. We met twice last year.”

Percival didn’t remember him, and didn’t want to, but he pretended he did for politeness sake. Taking the man’s hand, he shook it firmly, squeezing it as hard as he could without it being obvious that he was intentionally trying to cause pain.

Alistair winced, taking his hand back and shaking it out with a good natured laugh. “Now, that handshake was something I’m surprised I _don’t_ remember.”

Behind Alistair, Percival could see you run a hand through your hair. It was a distinct sign of your agitation.

“Al, would you mind leaving us? The Director and I still have some things to discuss.” You sounded strained, obviously only pretending to be normal.

Alistair, however, did not appear to notice. “Sure thing, doll. Director Graves, it’s good to have you back. I bet we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on.”

Percival wouldn’t have thought too much of that remark, except for the way you cringed visibly when Alistair said it. The man turned, and Percival glared daggers into his back. He could feel his teeth gritting when the man pulled you into a hug, moving to place his lips on yours. At the last second, you twisted your head. You eyes fell guiltily on Percival as Alistair kissed your cheek.

“Bye, darlin’. See you soon.”

“Bye,” you mumbled, not moving a muscle as Alistair left the room.

Percival heard his footsteps retreat down the corridor, before raising an eyebrow at you. He didn’t speak, because he knew it he did he may start yelling and not be able to stop. You simply chewed your lip, looking everywhere but directly at him. Your shoulders were tense, hands shoved in your pockets.

“I was about to tell you,” you eventually said softly, “he just has _the worst_ timing.”

“How long?” It came out as more of a growl.

You hesitated. “Three months.”

“Is it serious?”

“To an extent.”

“And what may that be?”

“I like him,” you replied, looking bitter, “it hasn’t gone as far as you’re asking, but he’s a good man and he’s been there for me.”

Percival fought the urge to scream. He’d been locked up for months, holding onto the idea that you were out there, fighting to get him back, solely intent on him… All the while you had been gallivanting with some suit from a stuffy department.

“You have to understand,” you struggled, “after he, you know, ended things-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Percival snapped. Fury rolled through him, along with a deep, aching pain in his chest. He felt like he was being torn apart. The pain on your face only made it worse. No matter how upset he was, he didn’t want to hurt you. “Look, I want to leave. Can I just get out of here?”

“Yes. Per the arrangements we have with the healers, you can leave whenever you’re ready.”

He closed his eyes. “Good. I want to go home.”

There a momentary silence. When he opened his eyes, you were shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “About that…”

“What?”

“You can’t go back to your apartment.”

“And why not?”

“A number of reasons, to be exact. The first being they’re still searching it for any clues on Grindelwald’s next move. The second is that the location of your apartment is pretty much public knowledge now. Despite that, Grindelwald and his followers know where you live, Percival. They could come back. And the last reason is that while they’ve healed your body, they’re not sure about your mental state.”

“But they’re letting me out.”

“Because I came to an agreement with them.”

He bristled, dark eyes flashing. “And what is that?”

“That you’ll stay with someone. Someone who knows you, who can take care of you.” He saw you swallow heavily, and if possible you began to look even more nervous than before.

“Who?” He demanded, though he was pretty sure you already knew.

Your eyes dropped to your shoes. Speaking so quietly that he could barely hear you, you softly said, “me.”

 _No._ He hadn’t realised he said it out loud. “Why would you even think that was a good idea?”

“I guess I was just hoping that you’d be alright with it.”

“No. That’s not happening.”

“Everything has already been arranged. All of the other aurors have assignments. They don’t have the time. No one knows you like I do, can see problematic changes.”

Vehemently, he shook his head. “No. I’m not staying with you.”

“Percival…”

“Bring me the Vice Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” he snapped, turning away. “I’m sure we can work something else out.”

“Okay.”

Crossing his arms, he glared resolutely at nothing. He knew that he was acting difficult, but he fully felt he had reason to be. And he had never been a particularly easy man to deal with in the first place. Silently, he waited for you to get up and fetch whoever his second in command now was. When you didn’t move, he looked at you in annoyance.

You simply sat there, an awkward smile on your face. For a second, he continued to gaze at you, wondering why you weren’t moving. Slowly, he felt horror grow over him. _No. This wasn’t happening._

“You?!”

“Guilty as charged,” you sheepishly waved.

“When?”

“Fairly recently. After we discovered Grindelwald wasn’t who he said he was, he took out a few people on the way out. Frederick was one of them. They promoted me in his stead.”

“Well, you were always on your way there anyway,” he complimented gruffly, before he could stop himself.

This time the smile you gave him was genuine. It swiftly faded from your face, and you sighed loudly. “I’m sorry, Percival, I really am. But everything has been organised. You’re coming with me or you’re staying in hospital.”

You knew he wouldn’t stay here. He was too proud, and wouldn’t want to appear weak. Still, it slightly hurt you to see just how much he didn’t want to come with you. Averting your gaze, you waited for him to answer.

“Fine. I’ll stay with you. But as soon as I’m free to go, I will.”

You wanted to go to him, to pull him into your arms and bury your face in his chest. You wanted to tell him that you were sorry and that you’d missed him, and the only reason you’d moved on was because Grindelwald’s Percival made it easier to. Fear that he would push you away stopped you from doing all that. Your ignorance, it seemed, had made quite the mess of everything.

 

**__________________________**

 

_“Director!” Your hand flew to your chest. “Merlin’s beard, you almost gave me a heart attack!”_

_He was standing at the street corner behind you, illuminated by the street light. His dark eyes were intent on you, and for once he was showing emotion. A grin crossed his handsome face, amusement glinting as he watched you. Unable to be annoyed at him, you chuckled, straightening your clothes._

_“My apologies,” he replied smoothly._

_You stared at him inquisitive, eyes shifting up and down the street before returning to his face. His expression once more became impassive as you began to examine him. He was hard to read, but you were getting better at it and you knew he was uncomfortable. Somewhat enjoying the fact that for once you had him on edge, you grinned at him and crossed your arms over your chest._

_“Mister Graves, were you following me?”_

_He hesitated, and after a moment nodded. “I meant no harm. I simply saw you leave the office, and noticed that you hadn’t apparated. These are dangerous times. I wanted to make sure you got back alright.”_

_You were slightly taken aback. “I wanted to enjoy the nice night we were having. And that’s… That’s very kind of you, sir.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but his appreciation of your praise was obvious by the upwards curve of his lips. “But how about you walk with me instead of lingering the shadows?”_

_Pretending to consider it for a moment, he let out a slight chuckle. You smiled encouragingly as he stepped away from the wall, moving up to stand beside you. Together, you began to walk leisurely through the streets of New York. It was fairly quiet, even for night time. Instead of letting silence rule, you filled the air with chatter, talking about whatever you could._

_Out of the office, Percival Graves was a lot less uptight. He seemed a bit easier to smile, to make conversation a bit more easily. You’d been working with him for three years now, and while he was a lot less formal with you than when you’d met him, you still didn’t know him all too well. While you had grown fond of him, it was indeed strange to spend one on one time with him. Whenever the department group went out, he opted not to go. This was… extremely unusual, but not entirely unwelcome._

_You reached your apartment earlier than you found you’d have liked to. Removing the keys from your pocket, you hesitated. Eyes flickering to him nervously, you weren’t sure if what you were going to say would be well received._

_“Mr Graves, would you like to come in for a drink?”_

_“Call me Percival. And yes, I would enjoy that very much.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so more angst at the start but somewhat of a lighter ending. I couldn't help myself. Hope you enjoy, and let me know! Have a great day, y'all!

_“What kind of drink do you want? I have firewhiskey, blackburn brandy, ramshackle rum, silverlake schnapps and even one container of butterbeer.”_

_“Quite a bar you have going there,” he commented wryly, “no-maj prohibition officers would not be happy with you.”_

_“Lucky I’m not a no-maj,” you replied, “now, what can I get you? No, wait. Let me guess.”_

_He seemed amused, settling back on your couch with one arm extended over the back of it. His jacket was unbuttoned, hanging open, and you could see his waistcoat covered muscular chest. Your mouth went a bit dry, and you had to lick your lips to wet them again. His brow was arched, a sly smirk on his face. He nodded towards the set of bottles on the small metal table._

_“Go on then.”_

_You smiled, and strode over to examine your collection. You tried to think of Percival Graves, of his confident, calm demeanor. Under his somewhat tough exterior there was a good man. Knowing wizards as you did, most expressed how partial they were to firewhiskey. However, having seen the disgusted faces many of them made after drinking it you thought it was more of a manly-ego type thing than any of them truly liking it. Graves was not one for such pretenses. He didn’t need to appear tough, simply because he was._

_There was no real reason for it, except for gut instinct. Grinning to yourself, you snatched up the bottle of obsidian liquid. Twitching it between your fingers, you turned to face him. “Blackburn brandy it is.”_

_Raising a brow, you waited to see what he would say. For a moment he simply stared impassively, before his face broke into a wide grin. Shifting in his seat, he removed his arm from the back of the sofa and slowly began to clap his hands together. “How did you know?”_

_You shrugged, feeling victorious. “Educated guess.”_

_“Well then, you are very educated indeed.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t think I have ever asked before. What house were you in in Ilvermorny?”_

_“Does it matter?” You asked, fetching two glasses from the shelf._

_You sat down next to him, handing him the glasses. He held them steady in his hands as you uncapped the bottle and poured some of the alcohol into each. The entire time he could feel his eyes intent on your face. You could feel the heat on your cheeks, but hoped it wasn’t visible. You finished pouring, ignoring the way your hands trembled slightly due to his proximity. Leaning forward, you placed the half full bottle on the coffee table in-front of you._

_When you sat back, Graves was pressing the drink into your hands. You smiled in thanks, taking a small sip. He smirked at you over the rim of his own glass, tipping the dark liquid back into his mouth in one smooth gesture._

_Yeah, he was your boss, but he was undeniably good looking. There was no denying the attraction you felt. It had lasted years, after all. While he may be around fifteen years older, you didn’t think that you had ever wanted another man more._

_“You haven’t answered my question,” he reminded you._

_For a split second, you forgot what it even was. A moment of panickedly searching your brain, you remembered._

_“My house? I was a Thunderbird,” you smiled shyly at him, a glimmer of pride breaking through your face._

_He nodded, mulling it over for a moment. “Yes, that makes sense. The soul. I can see that. I was a Wampus.”_

_“I can definitely see that,” you laughed._

_He hesitated for a moment, before speaking. “I was also wanted in the Horned Serpent, but I chose Wampus instead.”_

_Your brows shot up in surprise. For a few seconds you were unsure of how to react, so instead you took a sip of your drink. “You were offered both?” You finished, still somewhat incredulous._

_He nodded, a look of mild uncertainty on his face. “I haven’t told many other that. I don’t want to appear… boastful. So if you wouldn’t mind keeping that to yourself.”_

_“Certainly,” you replied, “but, woah. That doesn’t happen that often.”_

_He shrugged, still looking somewhat embarrassed. “So I’ve been told. It’s not any big deal though.”_

_Your eyes ran over his face. A warrior and a scholar. It figured. He was smart and brave. Of course he’d be offered both. In all honesty, you were surprised that all four houses had not wanted him. But yes, you vowed not to say anything. It surprised you that he had told you that. You weren’t entirely sure what to make of it._

_Deciding to change the subject, you smiled at him. “How’s the drink?”_

_“Oh, it’s very good. Thank you.”_

 

**________________**

 

“And this is you,” you said softly, helping him into the room.

Trying to ignore how he cringed away from proximity to you, you chose to plaster a fake smile upon your face instead. Once he was near enough the bed, he tried to push away from you. Not allowing him to for far that he would fall and hurt himself, you clutched him tighter against your waist. It was only when you reached right beside the bed that you finally lowered him onto it.

While his body was healed of all wounds and bruises, his muscles were still quite weak from being kept in captivity. Not only that, but you could see he had been affected internally too. When you moved too fast, he flinched. When you spoke too loudly, he cringed away from you. He was a proud man, and he would never admit it, but he was hosting some hidden scars.

“They sent me some suitcases of your stuff,” you said awkwardly. “I left them in the corner of the room. Just let me know if you want anything.”

“Can you please leave?” He said hoarsely. “I want you to leave.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes. “Percival…”

“I just want to get some sleep.”

Sighing in defeat, you turned to go. Striding towards the door, you stopped as your hand came to rest on the handle. Hesitating for a moment, you swallowed heavily against the lump in your throat and softly spoke. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you know.”

Behind you, you heard him sigh. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you saw him running a hand over his face. “I know.”

“I cared about you a lot,” you continued, opening the door. You started to pull it close behind you. “I still do.” The door shut with a click, but not before you could see his downcast expression.

Leaning back against the door, you ran a hand down your face. You felt completely and utterly drained. It was bad to admit, but the high of having him back had somewhat faded. The elation had been replaced by guilt and pain, only made worse every time you looked at him. Too many thoughts and emotions jumbled inside you, making your head hurt.

So you did the only thing you could. Walking over to the small metal table across the room, you grabbed the half-full bottle of blackburn brandy from its place, and collapsed onto the sofa. With a flick of your fingers, the cap popped up and you took a deep gulp. Raising your hand again, you gestured at the record player in the corner. Upbeat jazz filled the air. It didn’t really suit how you were feeling, but it was better than drinking in silence.

Resting your head on the back of the sofa, you drank heavily again. A bit of black liquid spilled down the corner of your mouth, and you raised a hand to wipe it away. Absentmindedly, your foot taped against the ground in time to the music.

A woman was singing. You weren’t really bothered to listen to her words, instead focused on ridding the brandy from the bottle. Another five minutes, and you were already starting to feel a bit light headed. Probably since you were downing it like it was water.

Humming to yourself, you didn’t hear the bedroom door behind you creak open. A throat cleared, and you jumped in surprise. Looking behind you, you saw Percival leaning against the door frame. He looked pale, a thin sheen of sweat on his face. You didn’t miss the way he was leaning into the wood, legs trembling slightly. However, he maintained his composure. Shooting you a disbelieving, condescending look that still made you feel embarrassed after all this time, he spoke stiffly. “I was wondering where the bathroom was?”

“Down that hall, first door on the left,” you nodded, putting the bottle on the ground and starting to rise to your feet. “Do you need a-”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, slowly shuffling in the direction you had pointed.

You sat back down, eyes following him as he moved away. While he didn’t want you near him, if his legs gave out or something you wanted to be there before he hit the ground. However, he made it to the bathroom. You watched him go in, and shut the door with a heavy bang behind him. It made you flinch, and avert your gaze to the floor. A few minutes later you heard flushing, and then a bit later he slowly made his way back out of the bathroom. When he caught you watching him, the usual frown dropped over his face.

Not knowing what else to do, you held aloft the bottle. “Blackburn brandy. Do you want some?”

His nose wrinkled. “No. I hate that stuff.”

You faltered, mouth dropping open. It took you a few seconds to speak again. “But… I thought…?”

“I only pretended to like it for you,” he responded, before shuffling back to his bedroom.

Your eyebrows were practically in your hairline as you wordlessly watched him disappear. Arm returning to your side, you clutched the bottle against your chest. You could barely believe it. He had never liked blackburn brandy, but had lied about it. So you wouldn’t feel bad. A warm lump grew in your throat, and you squeezed your eyes closed to hold back tears.

You missed that Percival Graves, the gruff man who never would have done anything to ever hurt your feelings. You missed him so much that it hurt. It pained you to see him now, so full of anger towards you. Sometimes you thought he hated you. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

Staring at the door, you silently put the bottle down on the coffee table before you and rose to your feet. Creeping across the room, you stopped at the door. Pushing it open silently, you peered in. Soft breathing reached your ears, and you knew he was asleep. The healers had given him herbs so that he could rest. They would be dreamless sleeps, so no chance of nightmares. Unable to stop yourself, you stepped into the bedroom.

Sneaking across the floor, you looked down at his sleeping face. He was a lot less angry looking right now, the lines on his forehead smoothed out. His skin was still a bit pale, but he looked better. Biting your lip, you gently reached out and brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.

You’d always loved his hair. It was fine and lustrous, so dark you could get lost in it. It greyed towards his temples, something that you thought only made him look more distinguished and handsome. Letting out a shaky breath, you sunk down next to him, sitting on the bed. One of your legs was folded under you, the other trailing onto the ground.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered, trailing your index finger down the side of his face. “Even when I didn’t know you were gone. When he took over, it just seemed like the spark was gone. I wasn’t getting over _him_ , just the man I thought he was. _You._ It took five months just to get over what I thought was the image of you that I’d made up in my head. If I had known… I never would have started seeing Alistair. And that’s the truth. But now that you’re back, I don’t know what to do. I spent so long getting over you, and now… I’m not entirely sure I have.”

He didn’t stir, just continued to sleep. He seemed so much more defenceless when he was like this. It stirred up some deep rooted protective instinct that you didn’t know you had. No matter how grumpy he was, you couldn’t leave him alone tonight. Any night.

Sliding off the bed, you crossed the room until you were at the threshold. There, you sank onto the ground, back pressed against one side of the doorway, feet braced against the other. Fumbling in your pocket, you took out your wand and laid it across your stomach. Looking back at him again, you saw a sliver of moonlight fall over his face. Swallowing, you turned back and leaned your head against the wooden frame. It was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t care less.

_I’m not leaving you again._

**________________**

 

_“Hey _____, what do you think about going out dancing tonight?” Jeffrey called from across the room._

_You paused, quill stopping its journey across the report in-front of you. Sitting back on your chair, you eyed your group of colleagues. They were crowded around the one desk, having taken their lunch breaks. All were looking at you eagerly, waiting for an answer. You weren’t hungry, and so had continued to work. You had a mound of paperwork to get through by the end of the week, so needed to make a dent in it today._

_“I don’t know,” you replied, “I have a lot of work to get done today.”_

_“Oh come on,” Alice groaned. “Please?”_

_You sighed, thinking it over. After a few seconds, you shrugged, a sly smile crossing your face. Throwing your quill back onto the desk, you gestured widely. “I guess it would be nice to blow off some steam.”_

_“Alright!” Jeffrey exclaimed. A few of the others made enthusiastic noises. “Will I book a booth for 8pm? Broomstick as usual?”_

_“Sounds alright to me,” you nodded, grinning widely._

_Dancing sounded like it would be fun. Hopefully it’d take your mind off all the doom and gloom going on recently. With things so hectic around here, it had been hard to find the time to enjoy anything. The last time that you felt you had properly not talked about work was two weeks ago, when Percival Graves stayed for a drink at your apartment. Speaking of…_

_“Should we invite the Director?” You asked quietly, risking a glance up at him._

_He was sitting in his office, a glass enclosed room on a dias above the rest. It made it easier for him to see people working, not that he seemed to have time in recent days to check in on everyone. He was always first one in the office, and stayed there after everyone left. You had no idea if he even went home at all, though each morning he always appeared to have washed and changed his clothes._

_When he saw you looking at him, he shot you a small smile before resuming whatever task at hand. Despite all this, you hadn’t spoke to him properly in a while. He was undeniably busy, and definitely stressed._

_It might do him good to get out. Plus, you definitely would not mind spending more time with him…_

_It took you a second to realise that an awkward silence had followed your words. Raising a brow quizzically, you ran your gaze over the group. No one reacted, before Jeffrey shrugged. “Sure. Ask him if you want. I doubt he’ll go, though. He never has before.”_

_You didn’t let that dissuade you. “I’ll ask him. The worst he can say is no, right?” You smiled slightly, watching them all nod._

_Taking that as a yes, you pushed yourself up from your desk. Brushing down your skirt, you set off across the short distance up the steps to Grave’s office. Pausing at the door, you raised a fist and knocked. Immediately, his tired voice called, “come in.”_

_Twisting the doorknob, you pushed it open. Peeking your head around the side of the door, you gave Percival Graves a wide grin. He set down his quill, gesturing for you to enter. Placing his elbows on the table, he clasped his hands and rested his chin on them, watching you with unbridled curiousity._

_“To what do I owe this pleasure?” He asked smoothly, causing heat to rush to your cheeks._

_“I was, uhm, wondering if you would like to come out with us tonight?” You gestured back towards the crowd of colleagues below. “We’re going out dancing. I thought you might like to get away from all this for a while.” You nodded at the files littering his desk. “We’ll be in the Broken Broomstick at 8 o’clock.”_

_His eyes had widened slightly as you spoke. When you finished, you waited somewhat awkwardly for an answer. He seemed to mull it over for a moment, before smiling at you ruefully. “The offer is truly appreciated, but I don’t think I can make it. I have a lot on my plate at the moment. Another time, perhaps.”_

_You tried not to let your disappointment show. Plastering a fake smile on your face, you nodded. “Another time, then.”_

 

**________________**

 

It was incredibly strange just how much you came to rely on Queenie Goldstein over the course of the next few days. And the _way_ in which you did.

Every couple of days when you went into work you didn’t have the time to talk to her per se. You would be in a meeting, and she would be serving coffee, and you would be half-listening but also half-thinking about what petty act Percival had in store for you tonight. He had been at your apartment for almost a week, and seemed to have made it his mission to be as difficult as possible. This ped you to constantly fixate on him, knowing how unlike the old Percival it was to act out. He had always been slightly temperamental, as a Wampus tended to be, but he had always kept it restrained. Of course, you knew he would not be exactly the same. Not with the torture and captivity. He was acting out, and you wanted to help but didn't know how. Didn't know if he'd allow you.

The first time it had taken you a little while to remember that Queenie could hear your thoughts, as you sat obsessing over Graves. It was only when she let out a small laugh when you mentally grumbled how every morning he managed to spill coffee over the joke section before you could read it, that you realised she was listening. Amused more than annoyed that she was technically eavesdropping, you started to recount all the other things he had done in your head. They were never anything big, not stuff that that you could claim he did on purpose. Things like hiding your shoes, tracking crumbs all through the apartment and spelling the record player to play the one song over and over again. You’d catch sight of her smirking, hand rising to cover her mouth as she tried to hide her smile.

 _‘Are you listening?’_ You thought, just to confirm your suspicions.

Across the room, she caught your eye and nodded.

_‘He does something every day. He really hates me.’_

She frowned, and shook her head.

 _‘You can’t pretend to know that, you can’t see inside his head,’_ you argued.

Queenie shrugged, but still smirked slightly.

_‘This is a bit strange, this one-sided conversation. Is there… Is there any chance you’d still be up for that whole talking thing? I could probably use some other perspective.’_

She gave you a friendly smile, revealing gleaming white teeth. Her gaze was kind as she nodded again.

_‘Maybe Tina too? I’ve never really had any girl friends before, maybe we could go for drinks or something?’_

She picked up a cup of coffee, and came around the table to your side. Placing the mug on the table beside you, she whispered in your ear. “That sounds good. How about the Broken Broomstick? Would tonight work?”

You hesitated, casting your gaze around the table to see if people were looking. No one seemed to be paying attention to your conversation. Still, you didn’t want to risk talking out loud. Maybe it had unsettled you at first, but having Queenie Goldstein in your head was turning out to not be that bad after all.

She smiled even wider as she read that from your mind, fingers touching your arm in a gentle, friendly gesture. You smiled at her, enjoying the feeling of making a new friend. With all that was going on with Percival, and your unsure feelings for Alistair, this was a welcome development.

_‘I’ll need to see if some arrangements can be made. I’ll let you know before 5pm?’_

“You only need to think it,” she said softly. “I’ll be listening out. It’s not often I get a girl’s night either.”

After the meeting, you managed to rope in two aurors who did not have plans tonight to stay at your apartment and keep an eye on Percival. You figured he wouldn’t mind, that you not being around would indeed be a welcome distraction. Once it was all sorted, you let out a non-verbal shout to Queenie to let her know it was all arranged.

A minute later, a paper plane zoomed through the air, looping around before settling on your desk. Leaning over, you unfolded the piece of paper. ‘Tina is up for it too. Meet you at the doors at 5:30pm.’

 _‘Sounds good,’_ you thought, knowing she was listening out. _‘And Queenie… Thanks.’_

The rest of the day blurred by. There was a lot to keep you busy, so before you knew it it was time to leave. Tomorrow you would be staying at home to keep an eye on Percival, so you grabbed all reports that you needed to look over and shoved them into your shoulder bag. And then you were off, shoes clicking on the ground as you headed to meet the sisters.

They were already waiting by the front door. Tina seemed slightly apprehensive, obvious unused to you expressly asking her and Queenie out for drinks. Her bubbly sister on the other hand, was brimming with excitement. As soon as she saw you she hurried over, linking her arm in yours and chatting animatedly. Despite everything going on, her good mood was fairly contagious and you soon found yourself laughing and talking too.

It only took a moment to arrive at the bar, since you chose to apparate there. Recognising you as a regular with the auror department, the guard ushered you all in. You smiled in thanks as you passed, before pointing to the free booth in the corner. It was your usual spot, so it was nice to see that it was free on an impromptu visit. The three of you sat down, picking up drink menus and flicking through. After deciding what you wanted and ordering, you all settled back.

“So,” Queenie started, wasting no time, “how’s it going with Graves?”

You laughed uncomfortably, shrugging. “I’m sure you already know.”

“I’m being polite,” she waved you off. “Plus, Tina doesn’t know.”

The quieter sister nodded. You turned to her, flashing an awkward smile. “Well, Percival hates me.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really? He didn’t seem to when, you know, you rescued him.”

“He didn’t know I was dating Alistair Night then,” you responded.

It was perfect timing, as the drinks arrived at that very moment. Taking your giggle water, you gulped it down before letting out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Covering your mouth, you bit back a smile. Beside you, Queenie giggled while Tina seemed amused.

“What are you going to do?” The blonde sister asked, touching your arm comfortingly. “I can see you like them both.”

You shrugged helplessly. “Alistair and I have been through so much the last few months, and he’s a really nice guy. I’d feel like a horrible person if I just dropped him for Percival Graves. But Graves is… Well, he’s _Graves_. As much of an asshole he’s being recently, I know it’s only because he’s hurt. He’s been through a lot. This… Well, it probably isn’t easy for him.”

Queenie considered it for a moment.

Tina took a drink, and spoke. “I think you should ask Alistair for some space while you figure this out. Maybe don’t say why though. Just that you need to have a clear head with work. Admitting feelings for Graves, especially since he’s staying with you, will only cause problems.”

“Plus, I don’t people to know,” you shrugged. “We kept it a secret. We weren’t sure if I’d be forced to switch department if we announced it. You guys…”

“We haven’t said anything to anyone,” Queenie responded seriously. “We would never.”

Touched by their friendship, you smiled and reached for both of their arms. Tina smiled as you squeezed her shoulder gently, while Queenie slipped her hand into yours and grinned back.

“Doomed love club,” she giggled, leaning against the back of the booth.

“What do you mean?” You asked, trying not to smile.

“Well, it’s only fair that you know. Since we know about your romantic life,” Queenie chuckled. “I’m hung up on a no-maj who doesn’t remember me, and Queenie is pining after a gentleman animal smuggler.”

“A gentleman animal smuggler?” You repeated, laughing as you turned to give Tina an inquisitive look.

She rolled her eyes, but seemed amused. “Queenie is making him out to be much more dashing and villainous than he really is. You remember Newt Scamander?”

You had been on assignment at the time, but you knew the story. Nodding, you allowed the pieces to fall into place. “Ah, yes. Him?”

She iniclined her head, looking somewhat embarrassed. She took a sip of giggle water, trying to hide her expression. Instead she laughed loudly, causing you and Queenie to giggle as she noticeably grew more flustered.

“And you!” You looked back at the other sister. “A no-maj?”

“His name is Jacob Kowalski,” she sighed, throwing a hand over her forehead, “and he is the best man I’ve ever met.”

“Let me guess. He was the no-maj with Scamander.” You knew the two sisters had played a big role in Grindelwald’s unmasking.

“Yes,” she groaned. “Picquery made us obliviate him.”

The downcast expression on her face twisted your heart. Reaching out, you wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “Queenie, that sucks. I’m so sorry.”

She sniffed, trying to appear unruffled. “I still go to his bakery. We talk sometimes.”

You thought over what you were going to say next, before speaking the words. “Just let me know if you ever want someone to go with you. For moral support.”

She gave you a beaming smile, a few tears brimming in her eyes. “That would be lovely. Besides, you have to try his pastries. They’re simply _divine_ …”

The night continued, and somehow your mind was dragged away from your personal problems. It could have been the alcohol, but more likely it was the company. You couldn't understand why you'd never _really_ hung out with the Goldstein sisters before.

Conversations became more animated, drinks started to flow. Before you knew it, Queenie had a grip on your arm, her fingernails digging into your skin. You let her pull you out of the booth, where she began to dance. You could see men watching, but she didn't seem to care at all. Her attitude was contagious, and within a few seconds you were bumping and sliding beside her. Tina still sat, hand against her mouth to hold back giggles as she watched you both. Unable to stop yourself, you winked and beckoned to her. Grabbing her hands, you dragged her to her feet too, the three of you forming a triangle of swaying bodies.

By the time you had to leave, you were all pretty tipsy. The bartender wouldn't let you apparate incase of splinching, so instead you used flu powder to get home. Waving goodbye to the girls, you stepped into the fireplace. Throwing down the powder, you shouted your apartment number.

Next thing you appeared, banging your head against part of the inside of the chimney. Merlin's beard, that hurt. You'd forgotten your fireplace wasn't big. It was extremely difficult to get out, as you had to slide out onto the ground and shuffle out on all fours, chest to the sky.

When you eventually got out, covered in soot and grime, you were greeted with two wands pointed at your face. The aurors. Seeing it was you, they lowered their arms with disbelieving expressions on their faces.

“Hey boys,” you grinned, “help me up?”

Laughing, they each took an arm and pulled you upright. You thanked them as they released you, bending over to brush down your clothes. Not that it worked. These would need a serious clean if they were to be salvaged.

“You can go,” you waved them off. “I've got it covered. Thanks for everything.”

They nodded, seeming somewhat unsure. You gave them a stern stare, trying not to pitch over as the world spun slightly. Eventually, they nodded. You watched them leave the apartment, and heard the slight noises outside to signify that they'd apparated. Turning back to the apartment, you realised someone was watching from the doorway of the guest bedroom, half hidden in shadows.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly, realising you looked like a chimney sweep.

“You're filthy,” he remarked, sounding more confused than snappy. “What happened?”

“I went out dancing,” you shrugged, bending over to peel off your shoes.

When you straightened, his face had taken on a guarded expression. “With Alistair?”

You hesitated, and then softly shook your head. “Alistair won't be coming around again for a while.”

 

**________________**

 

_You were sitting down, sipping on a glass of ramshackle rum and a No-Maj beverage called ‘Coca Cola.’ Having danced a fair bit, you were giving yourself a bit of a break. A few wizards had asked for a second dance, but you had declined as politely as you could. As sad as it was, you had come to the very real realisation that you had a crush on your boss. The inscrutable Percival Graves. You weren’t too interested in spending time with any other man if he wasn’t around._

_The rest of your coworkers were spread out across the bar, some dancing, some at the counter ordering more drinks. You swept your gaze over the room disinterestedly, wondering when you would announce that you were tired and head home. Moving one fingers in a circular motion above your glass, you stirred your drink. Attention on the dark liquid, you failed to see the tall figure enter the bar across the room._

_A few seconds later, a warm hand fell on your shoulder. “Mind moving over?”_

_You almost dropped your drink in shock. Hardly daring to believe it was true, you slowly looked up. “Director Graves?”_

_He chuckled, watching you with amusement. “I’ve told you before. It’s Percival.”_

_Not knowing what else to say, you scooted inwards to allow him room to sit down. Sweeping his coat behind him in one smooth motion, he settled in beside you. A friendly smile was on his face, and while he still appeared tired, he was visibly less stressed._

_“I thought you weren’t coming,” you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips._

_He shrugged. “You were right. I needed to get out tonight. Now, what are you having to drink?”_

_With a small smile, you held up your half-full glass. “I don’t need anything, I still have to get through this.”_

_“Then I’ll just get you one for when you’re finished.” He held up a hand to a house elf milling around. While this was the kind of place where you got up to order your own drink, Percival had both a reputation and an undeniable air of authority around him, so the waiter hurried over. You watched, feeling a glowing warmth inside your chest as Percival ordered another drink for you, and a firewhiskey for himself. When he saw your curious expression, he shrugged. “It’s been a long few weeks.”_

_“Cheers to that,” you chuckled. “I’m… I’m glad you came out.”_

_You weren’t a simpering idiot, so you didn’t miss the way his gaze flicked down your body before he could stop himself. Catching himself, a muscle jumped in his jaw slightly. He looked away, his cheeks turning slightly red. His dark eyebrows knit together. You only watched with a widening smile, both amusement and pleasure growing in your chest._

_You were wearing a fitted navy dress. Not tight enough to be indecent, but a bit risque for the times. Not that you cared. You loved it, and the wizarding world wasn’t as uptight about that stuff when compared to the no-majs. It was one of your favourite wardrobe pieces, because you knew it looked well. From his expression, Percival Graves seemed to have the same thoughts._

_He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him. “I’m glad I came too. You… You look lovely.”_

_“Thank you. You’re none too shabby yourself.” It slipped out before you could stop it, probably the result of one too many alcoholic beverages already. Clamping a hand to your mouth, you stared at him in shock._

_He didn’t look annoyed, instead you got the feeling that he was pleased. His chest seemed to puff slightly, and he sat a bit straighter._

_“Thanks,” he replied, before leaning in to talk into your ear. “Everyone is looking at us.”_

_A quick glance around told you this was true. All the other aurors present were shooting curious glances at yourself and Percival. You were pretty sure you knew why._

_“I don’t think they’re used to you coming out,” you replied, just as the house elf appeared back._

_You thanked him as he deposited your drinks on the table, and then vanished again. Percival leaned forward, picking them up and passing one to you. Clinking your glasses off each other, you swallowed deeply. He was watching you with amusement._

_“What?”_

_“Dance with me.”_

_Your eyes widened slightly. “You mean… Right now?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“But we only just got our drinks?”_

_An unsure expression crossed his face. “We can wait then-”_

_“No,” you interrupted, hardly able to believe you’d been rebuffing him. Merlin’s beard, the alcohol was seriously starting to cloud your mind if it lead you to do things like that. “We can go now.”_

_“I didn’t mean to rush you…”_

_“You’re not,” you rose to your feet, nudging his shoulder with your hip. “Move out. We’re going dancing.”_

_His handsome face twisted happily, and he tilted the contents of his drink back into his mouth before pushing himself up. His hand snuck out, fingers brushing yours. A tingle shot through your arm at the contact. You swallowed, looking up at him from under your lashes and entwining your fingers with his. He was watching your held hands with a strange expression on his handsome face. Once again, you marvelled at the fine, dark hair that turned to grey at the bottom, the deep brown eyes, the sharp jawline._

_He tugged at your hand, leading you away from the booth and out onto the floor. A smooth jazz song began to play. Instead you appearing uncomfortable and keeping his distance, Percival stepped closer. His arm slid around your waist, tugging you tighter against his body. You allowed yourself to melt into him, feeling him lead you as you swayed softly to the music._

_Unable to stop yourself, your head fell to rest against his broad chest. You felt his swallow thickly, and smiled into the fabric of his waistcoat. His warm breath ruffled your hair, and you didn’t think you’d ever been more lost in a moment. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, until he bent his head down to whisper in your ear._

_“I came out for you.”_


	3. Chapter 3

“I have to go into the office,” you mumbled quietly from the door, “I shouldn’t be long.”

“Okay,” he answered blankly. He was staring at the book on his lap, all but ignoring you. It had been almost two weeks since he had come to stay, and around six days after you had gone out with the Goldstein sisters. His attitude towards you had still not improved.

“Tina Goldstein will stay with you while I’m gone. If you stay inside everything should be fine.”

“Alright.”

Not entirely sure on how to react or what else to say, you simply nodded and left the room. Closing the door quietly behind him, you sighed softly, running a hand down your face. You jumped when she spoke, having forgotten that she was there.

“Are you alright?” Tina asked softly.

“Yeah,” you replied in hushed tones. “It just… It hasn’t gotten any better.”

Her face twisted in sympathy. You simply shrugged, picking up your black coat from where it lay draped over the back of the sofa and shrugging it on. Fixing the collar, you turned to look at her.

“Let me know if there are any issues,” you said. “Hopefully I shouldn’t be too long. Help yourself to anything you want.”

She smiled kindly, shrugging off her own coat and sitting down on the sofa. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

“I know you will,” you responded with a small grin. “I’ll see you soon. Hopefully.”

“See you later. If you see Queenie, tell her to save me some dinner tonight.”

“I will,” you nodded, before leaving the apartment. The door swung closed behind you, and you disapparated with a small ‘pop.’

Inside, Tina cautiously moved towards the bedroom door. Hesitating for a moment, she eventually raised her hand and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” a gruff voice called.

Pushing the door open, she peeked her head in. Percival was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hi,” she said warmly. “It’s good to see you again.”

He finally looked at her, one corner of his mouth twisting in a wry smile. “Tina. I hope you’re well.”

It didn’t seem like a question, but she answered. “I am. How are you?”

He shrugged. “Been better.”

Not knowing what else to say, she trailed off. Thinking for a few seconds, she then smiled at him again. “I’m going to make some cocoa, would you like some?”

“No thank you,” he replied. “I might try to get some sleep.”

Tina nodded, trooping back to the kitchen, where she set about making the cocoa. It only took a few minutes before she was done. Trooping back into the living room, she sat down on the sofa and removed a book from her bag. Running a finger down its spine, she smiled to herself. _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._ Opening it carefully, she settled down and began to read. She sat for around half an hour, immersing herself in Newt’s book.

A while later, the bedroom door creaked open. She looked up, a ready smile plastered on her face. It immediately dropped when she took in his attire. He was fully dressed. Shoes, slacks, white shirt, waistcoat, tie, coat. The whole works. He was sweating lightly, but the look on his face was determined. His sharp jaw was set, eyes intent on the front door.

“Director Graves?” Tina leapt to her feet. “What’s going on?”

“I’m going for a walk,” he growled, slowly moving towards the door.

Tina slid in-front of him, bracing her arms on his chest. “No, you’re not. _____ gave me express orders that you were meant to stay here-”

“And I’m giving you express orders to let me past,” he snapped. “You can come with me if it makes you feel better, but I’m going outside.”

“Sir, I can’t-”

“I am your superior,” he stated angrily. “Higher up than Miss ______. You listen to me, Goldstein, or there will be consequences.”

He felt kind of bad issuing such a threat, especially when he saw Tina’s throat bob. She trembled for a moment, before nodding. Silently, she moved away and allowed him to pass. Straightening his coat, he walked towards the door. He could hear her quiet footsteps following him. Opening it, he slipped over the threshold. The air pulsed slightly around him, undoubtedly letting you know that someone had crossed the wards.

 

**___________________**

 

_Percival Graves had been avoiding you._ _  
_ _You had no idea what the reason behind it was, but it was true. He’d come out dancing that night, and you had talked the evening away. There had been something in the air, an electric tension. The ever-increasing proximity to a line that neither was willing to cross just yet. Everyone else had already left when you decided to call it a night. Having a higher tolerance than you, Percival was safe to apparate. He dropped you by your front door, and you had lingered slightly, reluctant to let go of his arm._

_For a few moments you had both stood there, staring into eachother’s eyes. Your heart beat sped up, and you felt your palms heat with nervousness. Then, before anything happened, he straightened up. A friendly smile was plastered to his face, and he bid you goodnight._   
_You hadn’t seen him properly since then._   
_Sure, you’d spied him up in his office, that raised glass room towering above the others. A number of times you even tried to go up to talk to him, but whenever you got there the room was gone. It was perplexing, and slightly disheartening._   
_You were no blushing virgin, and knew that there had been some form of attraction between you both the other night. Recalling the words he’d whispered into your ear as you danced still made you shiver slightly. However, he could have been over-tired, or drunker than you thought. He may have felt something then, but it could be long gone by now._   
_Still, he could at least be a grown-up about it and acknowledge you._   
_Days passed, and then two weeks went by. At that stage, worry gnawed at you. Had you said something that you didn’t remember. Did some act, however unintentional, freak him out in some way?_   
_Not one to bury your head in the sand, you decided to confront him._   
_It was a sneaky act, and probably against procedure. You did it anyhow._ _  
_ Sneaking into the administrator’s office while she was on break, you unlocked the cabinets and began to hunt for the file you wanted. It didn’t take long to be located, and in mere minutes you had Percival Graves’ home address. Committing it to memory, you closed the file and set everything up as it should have been.

_That evening you went home and had dinner, knowing Percival was more likely to get home later than earlier. Once the clock hit 9pm, you stepped outside your apartment and disapparated, reappearing on the opposite side of the street to his apartment block. You had never been there before. Rows of dwellings constructed from fancy white stone… It was a posh neighbourhood indeed._

_Making your way over, you let yourself into the building. His apartment appeared to be on the top floor, so you took the stairs for the following eight stories. When you reached the top you were breathing heavier than usual. Stopping to rest for a moment, you allowed yourself time to catch your breath. Once you did, you levelled your gaze towards the red door in-front of you._

_Suddenly, you felt a bit foolish. But it was too late to stop there, so you strode forward and rapped the door knocker sharply. There was no shout, no noise, so you leaned in, pressing your ear against the wood in an effort to hear better._   
_Without warning, the door swung in. Losing your balance, you stumbled, falling forward into a strong chest. Arms circled around you, catching you before you could slip and hit the floor. Looking up at your saviour, you suddenly found you had to swallow against the lump in your throat._ _  
_ “Hi,” you said awkwardly.

_“Hello,” he answered in a calm manner, one brow raised._ _  
_ _You noticed he looked a bit unkempt, like he hadn’t shaven properly in a while. His hair, usually perfectly maintained, stood up messily, and his clothes were in disarray. It was his eyes that gave it away. A haunted look lingered in them._

_“I’m sorry for intruding,” you said as you distangled yourself. “Really, I am. But I just wanted to check… Are you okay?”_

 

**___________________**

 

Your hand clenched into a fist, fingernails digging into your skin. You’d felt it as soon as someone crossed the threshold of the apartment, and could tell who it was. First was Percival, followed by Tina. Gritting your teeth, you suppress the urge to growl loudly.

At the head of the table, Picquery was talking about guard rotations. She feared that Grindelwald would make some move to escape prison, and in addition to the usual guards wanted a team of skilled aurors on the premises at all times. You felt like telling her that an entire trope of aurors had failed to stop him on the day he was captured, but held your tongue. She was a temperamental woman, and wouldn’t take too kindly to someone criticising her ideas. Instead, you nodded along.

However, now you could no longer pay attention. Your gaze dragged to Queenie, who was serving coffee at the meeting.

_‘Are you listening?’_ You asked inside your mind.

Almost imperceivably, you saw her nod.

_‘I need you to send a message to Tina. Tell her to get back to the apartment, or I will report their little excursion.’_

She nodded again, placing down the pot of coffee in the centre of the table. Silently, she left the room. No one seemed to notice. You breathed out loudly through the nose, rubbing your hand over your mouth. Finger tapping softly on the heavy metal tabletop, you waited, near vibrating with anxiety.

“Miss ______,” a cold voice drew your attention.

Immediately, your gaze snapped back to Madame Picquery. She was staring at you with an arched brow, looking irritated and disapproving all at once.

“Is there some matter more important that you’d like to share? You seemed rather disinterested.”

Face burning with embarrassment, you ducked your head submissively. “My apologies, Madame President. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” She lifted her cold eyes off you, beginning to speak once more.

You forced yourself to look like you were paying attention, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Percival and Tina.

 

**___________________**

 

A paper airplane zoomed through the sky, stopping as Tina caught it in her outstretched hand. Frowning, Percival watched as she opened the paper. The script inside was neat, written in looping cursive. He didn’t recognise it, but by how her face blanched, Tina seemed to.

“We have to get back,” she said shakily, stuffing the paper into her pocket. “I’m going to be in serious trouble if we don’t.”

“A bit longer,” Percival said decisively, and kept walking.

“Mister Graves _please_ ,” Tina cried.

He stopped, the panic in her voice tugging on his heartstrings. A muscle in his jaw twitching, he finally nodded. “Fine. We’ll go back.”

She smiled, looking relieved. They turned, trekking back along the path in the public park. Overheard, leaves rustled in the breeze, branches swaying. It was a rather peaceful day. A Sunday, Percival learned from one of the No-Maj newspaper stands along the streets.

Not too many people were out. Those who did usually strolled in ones or twos, talking softly amongst themselves. He could hear birds chirping, and the sun filtered softly through the trees. All in all, it was a lovely day. It was even better to be outside again, drinking in the fresh air.

Sure, sometimes a carriage surprised him and he cringed away, or a loud shout or yell echoed and caused him to jump, but he was alright. He was enjoying himself. He had been going a bit stir crazy back there.

They made their way back through the park, not speaking. He could tell Tina was anxious, and felt slightly bad for putting her in this situation. Despite all the positives, he was growing somewhat tired with the exercise. Heading back was probably a good idea. The walk took around twenty minutes, and then they were climbing the steps towards your apartment.

His breathing became laboured, and his palms grew warm and sweaty. He had to use the handrail to half drag himself up the stairs, feeling his muscles strain and quiver. Tina obviously noticed, moving closer to his side. Her arms wrapped around his waist, reminding him of you helping him. He could hear someone coming up the stairs behind him and tried to increase his pace. He didn’t want anyone to see how weak he was, whether they were a stranger or not.

“Hurry,” he rumbled.

Tina increased the pace, helping him up the steps to your floor. He slumped against it as she fumbled with the spare set of keys, unlocking it and stepping inside. Percival stumbled in, feeling a bit shaky. Tina closed the door behind him, before helping him towards the bedroom. His wand fell from his pocket, and Tina stopped to pick it up. He gestured for her to put it on the hall table, waving her off exhaustedly.

She helped him sit onto the bed. He was getting settled down when someone knocked on the front door. Immediately, they both stopped. Tina groaned, shaking her head.

“I’m going to be in so much trouble.”

Percival dropped his gaze to the rug. “I’m sorry.”

She gave him a kind look. “It’s okay.”

The door clicked open, and footsteps rang out as someone crossed the living room. Percival froze. He knew your footsteps by now, and this wasn’t them. Catching sight of his expression, Tina stiffened. Motioning for him to be quiet, she crept towards the door. Percival waited to see what would happen, cursing himself for leaving his wand in the living room.

The footsteps reached the door. There was a moment of silence. Suddenly, there was a yell of “expulso!” and the door flew open. It hit off the wall, and Percival cowered away from the loud noise, dark memories flashing in-front of his eyes. A man stormed into the room, dressed in a black coat. He was ordinary looking, except for the sneer on his face and the wand held in his hands. Tina moved in-front of Percival, a determined expression on her face.

“Expelliarmus!” She shouting, casting the spell.

It rebounded off a silver _protego_ shield, knocking over the lamp beside him. Percival fell off the bed, hitting the floor in shock. Before Tina could react, a bolt of red left the intruder’s wand. She screamed as it hit her in the hand, leaving a burn mark across it. Her wand flew from her fingers, spinning into the air. Percival lunged for it, but the man fired a curse, forcing him to dodge. Extending his foot, the man kicked the wand back behind him.

Scrambling to his feet, Percival threw himself in-front of Tina, using his body to shield her’s. She struggled to get in-front of him, but he held her back. There was no hope now. They were both disarmed, and while he had once been able to use magic without a wand, his mind was not so stable now. Gulping, he stared defiantly at the man before him, trying to mask his terror with a sneer.

The intruder saw through it anyhow, moustache twisting as he let out a deep chuckle. Lifting his wand to point directly at Percival, he opened his mouth to speak. “Avada-”

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

A bolt of green light flew from the doorway, slamming into the man’s back. Percival saw him stiffen, eyes flaring until they were wide open. He could see the life leave them. The man didn’t even have time to look surprised. For a split second he swayed, before keeling over and hitting the floor loudly. Percival’s eyes fixed on him in disbelief, before he dragged them up to the figure standing in the doorframe. He felt Tina’s fingers dig into his upper arm as she peeked out from over his shoulder.

You stood by the door, looking slightly grey. A light sheen of sweat had broken across your forehead, as one of your hands crept out to clutch the doorknob for support. Wordlessly, you looked down, gaping at the wand in your hand. You dropped it like it burned you, and it clattered to the floor. Percival watched your hand go to your mouth, and you blanched like you were going to throw up.

He thought he understood. You had killed before, but you had never used this curse. An Unforgivable Curse.

Managing to hold yourself together, you knelt slowly and picked up your wand. Striding out of the room, he could hear you talking into it. A shimmer of silver light appeared, and your patronus, a glowing silver ethereal wolf ran back into the room and out of the open window. Percival figured it was on its way to send word of the attack to the MACUSA.

Tina pushed herself away from him, half stumbling in her haste to get out of the room. She skirted around the body, her chest rapidly rising and falling and her expression fearful. She disappeared out the door, leaving Percival alone with the corpse. He stared at it, a faint memory of a burning fire poker pressed into his skin brushed across his mind. A face was behind it. _That face._

He groaned loudly, putting his head into his hands as he fought to push back the images. It took a few minutes, but he managed to get himself under control. He straightened, muscles aching from how tensed he had been when he pushed away the flashback. Staggering slightly, he left the room hastily, not wanting to stay with that body for a moment longer.

When he entered the living room, he immediately spotted you. You were slumped in the armchair in the corner of the room, hand wrapped tightly around a bottle of firewhiskey. Your other hand was raised, massaging your temple. Tina stood nervously across the room, behind the sofa. Her hands were wringing together behind her back. Percival stopped, not knowing what to say. None of you spoke. You simply sighed, raising the bottle of firewhiskey and swallowing deeply. Silence stretched out, before you broke it softly.

“Why couldn’t you just stay here?” You said forlorny, picking at the label on the bottle. He noticed your fingers were trembling. “You were told to _stay here_.”

He opened his mouth, searching for an answer but not able to find one. Your eyes bore into the bottle in-front of you, before you shot to your feet and hurled it with all your strength. It shattered on the wall, around five metres away from where Percival stood, cringing away from it. Your face twisted in a snarl, rage and anger flaring inside you. He saw your hands fly to your head, grasping strands of hair and yanking at them. Your chest was rising and falling, hyperventilating.

“I only asked that you stay inside!” You half-howled. “I was just trying to keep you _safe!_ ”

At that moment, pops and bangs filled the air as aurors began to populate the room. You turned away, half hiding your face against the wall and gesturing towards the bedroom. He could see your shoulders shaking. Percival shrunk back, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. It wasn’t an emotion he was too familiar with.

Tina approached you, laying a hand on your shoulder and trying to talk calmly. You shook her off violently, radiating rage and upset. She moved back, a downcast expression on her face.

There was another pop, and the president appeared. Her face was like a thundercloud, and it was directed at you. Percival chewed his lip, realising how much his little act of rebellion may have cost you. “Miss ______,” she said in a voice like ice. “What happened?”

He saw you inhale shakily, taking a second to regain your composure. You turned towards Picquery, and he could still see the stress on your face though you attempted to mask it.

“I got the alert that there was an intruder when he crossed my wards,” you explained, voice hoarse. “I apparated back immediately.”

“How did he find out Graves was here?” She pressed, arching a brow.

You swallowed. “Director Graves and Miss Goldstein crossed the wards. They went outside. He must have spotted them and followed them back.”

“And you neglected to inform us as soon as Director Graves and Miss Goldstein left the premises?” Her voice was like acid.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I was hoping they’d return. That it would be no cause for alarm.”

“Hmmmm. So not only did you fail to alert us about the potential danger the Director was in, but you used an Unforgivable Curse to stop the intruder?”

You winced, hesitating slightly. Tina butted in, unable to hold back.

“Madame President, he was about to kill us.”

You nodded desperately. “He was already speaking the spell. I wasn’t sure if I could him in time. I reacted on instinct.”

“If you had time to kill, you had time to disarm, Miss ______. We could have taken him in for questioning. Not only that, but the flashes of light were noticed by No-Majs on the street below. They contacted police officers, all of whom had to be obliviated.”

Percival saw your shoulders sag in defeat. You hung your head. “I’m sorry.”

“As the Vice-Leader of the Department of Magical Security, you should have known better. There will be a hearing, Miss ______, and there will be consequences.”

Percival saw your throat bob. It looked like you may cry. Fighting back tears, you averted your eyes. He knew you didn’t want to appear weak in-front of everyone. Tina stared at you, horror and guilt crossing her face. Catching him staring, her accusing eyes bore into his. He averted his gaze, and cleared his throat.

“Madame President…”

“Mister Graves,” she acknowledged. “I’m glad to see you’re looking better. Knowing your precarious mental state I do not _entirely_ blame you for your actions. What you went through could cloud anyone’s judgement.”

She was giving him an out, he realised. She had always been fond of him.

“It was my fault,” he found himself saying. His voice had an air of authority to it, almost like before. It caught her attention. Yours too, by how your head cocked slightly as he spoke. You still didn’t look at him. “I ordered Miss Goldstein to accompany me outside,” he continued. “Miss ______ sent us a warning, gave us a chance to return to the apartment before she was forced to report it. She was trying to save us from getting into trouble, and she then ended up truly saving us.”

Seraphina stared at him emotionlessly, mulling over his words. He stared at her beseechingly. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “Your attempts to shoulder full responsibility is admirable, Director Graves. However, the fault lies with Miss Goldstein and more so with Miss ______. She was trusted with a position of power. Now it appears she may not be worthy.”

“Please,” you said softly. “I’ve worked so hard for this.”

“There will be a review by the Board,” Picquery ignored you. “It will be decided then. Get what you need, both of you,” she eyed yourself and Tina. “We’ll leave whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you responded in a tone that sounded like you were dead inside.

Tina just nodded, face crumpling inwards like she was about to cry. Percival felt a warm lump grow in his throat. You wouldn’t even look at him as he tried to make eye contact with you. Giving up, he turned back to the president once more.

“Seraphina-” Percival tried to interrupt, but she held up a hand.

“We shall discuss this no further, Graves. Morgenstern and Devina will stay with you until we decide whether you are to be moved or not.”

With a wave of her hand, she disappeared. Tina followed, wiping her eyes before she vanished. You lifted your wand listlessly, eyes fixed on the floor. Percival moved forward, reaching for your arm.

“______,” he began, meaning to tell you how sorry he was for everything, how he had never really meant for this to happen.

When you met his gaze, you didn’t look angry or filled with hatred, you just looked sad. “You should find somewhere else to stay. I was an idiot for thinking this could work,” you told him softly, and then you were no longer there.

His hand fell through thin air, and he swallowed heavily. He could barely hear the aurors fussing around the apartment as he sank down onto the armchair you had just occupied. Putting his face into his hands, he groaned.

His temper, it seemed, had really messed things up.

 

**___________________**

 

_“Is she going to be alright?” You asked quietly, unsure of what else to say._

_He nodded. You saw his throat bob as he swallowed heavily. Twisting away, he stared at the wall opposite, so you could not see his face. You knew he was trying to get his emotions in check._

_“They said her memory should come back any day now,” he said softly, his voice wavering slightly. “I’m not so sure I want her to remember. I can only imagine...” He broke off, blinking rapidly._

_Your hand reached out, taking his. Entwining your fingers, you let your arms rest of the table as you stared at him._

_“Is there anything I can do?”_

_“No, but thank you. You stopping by was the best thing that could have happened. I really appreciate you thinking of checking up on me.”_

_“It’s no bother,” you smiled, squeezing his hand._

_“It is,” he insisted, before looking down again. “I’ve never really had friends, _____. I didn’t have to. I had my brother and sister-” His voice cut off as his face crumpled. Horror and sympathy shot through you as he covered his face with his free hand. Through the gaps of his fingers you could see tears glistening on his cheeks._

_“It’s my fault,” his voice was cracked. “If it wasn’t for me, for what I do and who I am, they wouldn’t have gone for her.”_

_“It is not your fault,” you told him firmly, draping your arm around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest. “They went after your sister because they are evil people. You can’t blame yourself for the decisions that other people make.”_

_He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he was in control. But his voice was tight, with a furious edge to it. “I hope I can kill them. I_ want _to kill them.”_

_A shiver ran through you at the words. “No. You don’t want that. Don’t sink to that level, Percival. You’re better than that.”_

 

**___________________**

 

If he expected anyone to yell at him, it would have been you. He did not expect Queenie Goldstein to barge into the apartment three hours later, and though she was tiny she suddenly seemed rather terrifying. Her eyes landed on him, hardening as soon as she saw him. Her small frame practically radiated anger. She strode forward, pushing past the aurors who tried to stop her, until she was right in-front of him. A petite finger was jammed into the air in-front of his face, each gesture punctuated by a growl.

“How. _Dare_. You.”

“Miss Goldstein,” he began, but she cut him off.

“Don’t you dare ‘Miss Goldstein’ me! What has that poor girl done apart from try to make amends to you! For something she didn’t even know she was doing! What she done apart from look after you, watch over you, and try to make you feel better despite the fact that you rebuff her at every turn! And don’t get me _started_ on Tina! She’s only just got her job back, and you drag her into this! Tell me, Mister Graves, do you have no respect for the women around you?!”

He stuttered, taken aback. “I didn’t mean any-”

“Of course you did!” She cried, finishing his sentence before she’d even worded it. “You wanted to frustrate her, to get her attention! Like some kind of little spoilt boy! Well, I can tell you something, you have succeeded in those goals every single day! Whenever she’s around, all that’s on her mind is _you!_ You make her miserable, and you do it on purpose! You know she barely sleeps at night, because she’s too busy sitting in your doorway, guarding you from whatever may come?! Do you know she blames herself for Grindelwald taking over, that she hates herself for it? And you punish her every chance you get, cementing the ideas that it’s her fault! You claim to care about her, Mister Graves, but so far all I’ve heard says the _exact opposite!”_

Queenie finished, looking extremely flustered, but no less furious. Percival found himself speechless. He hadn’t known that Miss Goldstein cared about you to this extent. Try as he might, he couldn’t argue with her. Instead, his eyes dropped to his shoes.

Tiredly, he morosely said, “you’re right.”

She seemed taken aback, like she had expected more of an argument. Instead of speaking, she pursed her lips and waited, crossing her arms. He searched for the words to continue.

“I… I do care about her. I never meant for it to go this far.”

“She might lose her job,” Queenie reminded him. “I can read her mind. She’s absolutely devastated. You’ve broken her, Mister Graves.”

“I care about her,” he admitted. “My head is just so… So messed up at the moment.”

Queenie arched a brow. “I don’t know if I can believe you. No one treats someone they care about like that. She’s a giver, and you just _take_ and _take_.”

Percival stared at her, reading her dislike of him in her eyes. Sighing, he closed his eyes, thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of his nose. Concentrating, he reached into his mind and tore down the wall. He heard Queenie’s sharp intake of breath, but stayed still. He replayed all the moments in his mind, spanning years and years, where he’d loved you. It hurt him to recall them, but he wanted her to see what he said was true.

When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him in awe. A tear tracked down her face, and she sniffed slightly. Her eyes softened slightly, becoming a bit more sympathetic. “It’s not often someone experiences feelings like that the first time they meet someone.”

She was referring to the moment that he’d first seen you enter the office when you’d started in the auror department. You’d been all full of nervous excitement, a shy smile on your face. Your eyes were wide when they caught sight of him and you smiled widely, looking slightly anxious but still friendly. There was something about you that made him shift in his seat, that had him reach up and loosen his tie slightly, as he suddenly felt that it constrained his neck. He’d managed a strained smile back, along with a curt nod. You turned away, attention shifting back to the person showing you around. Percival watched you go, feeling a bit flustered. He tried to turn back to his work, but somehow couldn’t take his mind off the new recruit.

“Yeah,” Percival grumbled, feeling ashamed and embarrassed all at once. “Now you know. I know I should put it behind me, but it hurts to even _look_ at her nowadays.”

“Because she’s with someone else. You act out to distract her from him.”

He didn’t want to admit it. “Yes.”

“That won’t work forever, Mister Graves. Maybe…” She hesitated, trailing off. He saw her bite her lip, an indecisive look on her face.

“What?” He pressed.

“I shouldn’t say. We have a confidentiality agreement.”

“Would she want you to tell me?”

“No… But… But it may changes things. Maybe for the better.”

“Then say it. Please.”

“Maybe she’s not happy with someone else. Maybe her feelings for you haven’t completely gone away. Not that I can understand it in the slightest, after how you’ve been acting.”

“So… You’re saying I shouldn’t give up hope?”

“I would have said that, but after today I’m not so sure.”

 

**___________________**

 

It was well past three in the morning by the time the front door opened. Percival’s head snapped upwards, staring intently. It swung open, and you slipped through. Your face was tilted towards the floor, hidden from his view.

“______,” his voice was subdued. “I’m so sorry.”

You simply stared at the ground. “So you’re still here.”

“I couldn’t just leave… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

You sighed, finally meeting his gaze. He saw the dark rings under your eyes, how your face had taken on a sickly pallor. His heart ached in his chest.

“What did you think would happen?” You said softly.

“I don’t know… He trailed off. “But not this. I really, truly am sorry.”

“I just want to go to sleep,” you responded quietly.

You went to move past him, but he stepped in-front of you. His hands came to rest on your upper arms, gripping them gently. You kept your face angled towards the floor, not wanting to look at him. Guilt ran through him when he felt you tremble slightly. He had never seen you this devastated.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly. His fingers inched up, taking hold of your chin and pulling it upwards. “What happened?”

You swallowed heavily, and he could see you blinking rapidly. “I was put on leave. They’re still deciding.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I think you’ve done enough,” you sighed, pulling away from him. “I just want to go to bed, Percival. I killed a man today.”

You began to walk away. He couldn’t just let you.

“Thank you,” he called, “for saving my life. Both times. I promise, I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, let me know what ya think! It's always appreciated! And thanks for reading!
> 
> P.S. Sorry if the stuff about pipes behind fireplaces is wrong. I tried to do some research but found nothing, and it would just strike me as something odd if I was in that situation!


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